


Wild Eyes

by atralei



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Photographer, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atralei/pseuds/atralei
Summary: Between her mother, her work and the expectations that's been put on her, Regina is happy that at least her recent photography project is developing smoothly. Well, until something else crashes down on her and destroys that too. Or does it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [richardchateau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/richardchateau/gifts).



> This fic was written as a gift for my friend - and support group - Caro. She gave me a push to post it as well, so it's dedicated to her ~~(if she likes it or not)~~. I'm making all of my excuses at the end of this chapter, so if you get through to there: you've been warned. This fic is also unbetad, so mistakes are all mine.  
>  Thank you for giving it a chance, and hope you enjoy.

 

But of _course_ it happens. _Of course_. She was too excited and everything went way too smoothly before now. Something had to happen, and well, this is it. And maybe she could have coped, if it wasn’t this.

 _This_ of all things that could have gone wrong.

“They’re sending replacement.” Kathryn – her assistant – says in way too calm of a voice. And she huffs, because it is just _perfect._ She spends six months looking for an ideal model for her shoot and they’re sending replacement?! How is that ever going to work?!

She starts pacing in front of Kathryn’s desk, hands brushing through her hair.

“There’s one more thing.” Kathryn says weakly and she stops and looks at her assistant with her hands on her hips, because _how much worse can it get?!_  

“They’re sending a woman.”

That much, apparently. Well, fucking _perfect._

-

And she prepares the shoot, because what else is there to do for her now, really? She doesn’t have any time to look for new model and if she pushes this thing further away she won’t be able to make it on time and that is not happening. Because if there’s one thing to know about her is that Regina Mills always meets the deadline.

She tries to breathe slowly and tries to calm herself. There’s no point in getting worked up about this, she knows but…

Exactly, _but_.

Because another thing there’s to know about her is that Regina Mills is a perfectionist. And this, this is pure chaos.

Kathryn walks slowly behind her and puts a mug on the table where her equipment lies.

“I’ve brewed you some chamomile.” She says.

Regina hates tea.

-

Her usual first shoot is always a light one. Regina makes sure of that. She wants to know the model fist, wants to look at them, see how the light breaks down in the curves and ridges of their bodies.

This shoot was supposed to be different because she met Robin before, she talked with him and she’s seen him and they knew what they would be working on. She felt the connection. He really was the perfect model for this project. But now all this went to hell because of some stupid bike accident. Like a man couldn’t drive a car like a normal person. She growls again looking through her lenses and deciding what she’ll go with first. This shoot has to be light, a trial. She hasn’t even seen the girl yet and she knows nothing of her experience.

The movement and something hitting the floor awakens her form this thought trance and she turns around and looks up. Well, there’s her model. Tall and slim, young, blonde hair – at least they got the hair right, if not gender – and she’s wearing the most hideous red leather jacked Regina has ever seen in her life.

Girl – because that seems fitting - smiles and says, “So, where do you want me?”

And Regina is startled by how informal that is so she points her head to the right where she arranged the silks and pillows and blankets on the floor. The girl nods and starts undressing on the spot.

First goes the jacket, then white tank top she wore underneath. When she goes to slipping her tight jeans off of her hips Regina croaks: “there’s the screen right there.” She doesn’t recognize her own voice. The girl looks up, stopped for a moment in the notion of sliding her trousers off and chuckles lightly.

“I don’t see the point if you’re gonna see me naked anyways.”

And so Regina nods.

And so the girl continues undressing right in front of her.

-

She doesn’t know her name yet, and they haven’t talked at all really, apart from those few words at the very beginning. So it should feel weird but somehow it doesn’t. Regina doesn’t know what it is about this girl, that just stormed in here and took all her clothes off and proceeded to lay down in front of her lens without much instructions. But there is something. There is _something_ there.

And well, Regina doesn’t really think how this is all wrong now, that she wanted a man’s body not woman’s. That she already got everything planned for that specific image. That she prepared this for over six months with masculine frame in her mind. That she should be furious still. She doesn’t think about that.

Because this girl - when she lays there, on her front, leaning slightly on one side, her arms folded in front of her and her face half hidden behind them so only her eyes and forehead are visible,

This girl with milky skin, smooth, with muscles and curves that reflect light and welcome shadows so perfectly,

This girl, that looks right at her with those wild green eyes -

This girl is somehow everything Regina needed for this to work.

-

The shoot is mostly silent, interrupted only with directions of the movement and poses she wants to get. And the girl seems to understand her better than any other model she worked with before, even without talking through what she wants to achieve, and so Regina thinks that this might actually work. This might actually work, _for a change._

And then they’re done and the girl dresses and Regina puts her camera away and turns around and the girl says: “well, that was something else.” And honestly Regina is not sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or criticism. And so she assumes the latter, as always prepared for confrontation.

“This is how I work,” she says in a clipped tone, “if you don’t like it then that’s your problem.”

The girl puts both of her hands up immediately in a gesture of surrender. “Lady, there’s no problem, just that most photographers I’ve worked with like to give a bit more directions.”

And Regina clenches her jaw and actually has to stop herself from lashing out.

“I would have given you the talk before we started, but you proceeded to undress on the spot.”

“So now it’s my fault?”

_Oh for heaven’s sake._

“Isn’t it?”

“If I’m doing nudes I prefer not to dwell on the fact that I actually have to undress for too long.”

“And I don’t like talking to people while they don’t have any clothes on.”

She sighs, closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. How it suddenly went from being really good shoot to this, she has no idea. And she is about to say something but then.

Then the girl somehow _trips._ While _standing._ Regina doesn’t really know. And the table with equipment is right behind her so she tries to stabilise herself but instead the table moves and the damned tea falls down and spills all over _everything._

And Regina gasps and the girl whispers “shit.” And they both stand unmoving.

It is until Kathryn runs into her studio – having witnessed everything because of the glass walls – and rushes to rescue what she can of the lenses and prints Regina had laying there.

And the girl moves to help – Regina assumes – mumbling “fucking shit” and “I’m so sorry” and “it was totally an accident” but she stops her with a hand and a glare. And the girl freezes.

Kathryn, as always helpful and unnecessarily nice (and honestly, Regina would have fired her a long time ago if they somehow hadn’t become friends) says: “that’s okay, don’t worry. Only prints seem to be unsalvageable and we can redo those, right?” She now directs the question to Regina and all Regina can do – apart from being violent - is grunt.

Because theoretically that _is_ right.

She really hates tea.

-

The disaster is wrapped, Kathryn mops the floor and Regina moved with the girl outside of her studio. In all honesty she wants to tell her to _get the hell out_ but she can’t even do that because the girl reopens their conversation as if nothing at all happened. As if she hadn’t cost Regina her time and money (and time is money as well, so double that).

“Sooo, I’d give you heads up before I’ll start undressing next time.” The girl says, hands on her hips and Regina looks at her and scrunches her eyebrows.

“Who says there’d be next time?”

And the girl smirks.

“My agency. Apparently your model had an accident so I don’t think he’s gonna be up and posing any time soon and they don’t have anyone else that meets your ridiculous criteria available right now so-”

“Yours is not the only agency in this town.” Regina snaps at her, “and you are not the only model working so you’d be wiser to respect those who hire you. And respect their property as well.” The girl has the audacity to roll her eyes.

“Mine is the best agency in this town - as you well know it otherwise you wouldn’t spent all those months with them looking for a model, you’d have gone elsewhere - and they send me cause I met all your criteria apart from having a dick. So, your point?”

And damn but the girl is right and she really has no more time on her hands and apart from this, this _misstep,_ they seemed to work just fine. Even if Regina is annoyed to seven hells and back.

So, well, maybe Regina already decided but all that she says to her is: “I’ll call your agency.”

And the girl chuckles – which somehow sounds like a taunt in Regina’s ears – and she walks away and down the stairs and out of the door.

And Regina is not sure if she actually heard the girl mumble _bitch_ or not, but if she had to guess her bet would be on the affirmative.

-

She really wished the photos would turn bad. She really did, to the extent that when she walked out of her studio in the evening she looked up at the sky and said that to the stars. In her head, of course, she’s not that crazy. Yet.

And the photos are good, both in color and monochrome – which in itself is rare – and it was only a trial. And so Regina sighs and heaves down on the stool in her darkroom because she wishes to have an excuse to push the blame onto someone other than herself for this project becoming a failure. Like the agency or the model. But she really, really can’t. She can’t even stretch it this time. And so there is no other choice but to call the agency so they would send the girl back.

Regina turns around on the stool and looks up at the pictures hanging on the cord. She hates herself because the pictures are good, and she knows she can work it out with this girl only if she wanted to. But she _really_ doesn’t want to.

And so Regina groans and starts tearing photographs off the cord without much care.

-

So she calls the agency – correction, Kathryn calls the agency – so they would sent the girl back. And they set the time and date and Regina – Kathryn, really – tells them that they’ll take over with meetings from now on, it is only convenient.

“Don’t get nervous.” Kathryn says when she gets off the phone. Regina sits on her desk, elegantly poised in her grey pencil skirt. Her fingers drumming on the surface.

“I don’t get nervous.” She says. Kathryn looks down at her hands and then up at her face again.

“Sure.”

-

She really didn’t thought this through.

When she decided that they’ll start with the location shoot she was sure it was an excellent idea. New place, open space, they could start somewhat anew. All this still checks, however when she stands next to her sleek Mercedes with the green-eyed-girl on her left she remembers why she had this nagging feeling all those days prior. Like if she forgot something.

She did forget something.

And that something is standing right next to her and not waiting for her on the site of the shoot.

_Damn._

-

The only thing she said to the girl thus far was “get in”.

They’ve been driving for almost fifteen minutes and she expects to have her silence disturbed any second now. Any second.

“So, after last time I wasn’t expecting a road trip.”

_And there it is._

“This is not a road trip.” Regina says. And the silence enfolds them once again. The buzz of the engine was always soothing to her so she didn’t turn the radio on. She might be regretting that now.

The calm doesn’t last any longer this time. Barely five minutes – not that she counted, it’s only that the clock is right there when she checks her speed from time to time.

“But it kinda is, isn’t it?”

And if Regina turned her head and looked at the girl she is sure there would be this horrendous smirk on her face, and her eyes would somehow _glint_.

But she doesn’t, of course. She is a responsible driver.

She doesn’t respond either.

After a few more minutes the girl sighs, very loudly, and then opens her mouth again.

“Wanna tell me something about this shoot before I take my clothes off?”

-

They are in the forest.

Location she scouted almost year prior. By accident, as most of her other locations, if she’s being honest with herself. There are some fallen trees, lots of undergrowth and a river.

And soon there’s a naked girl right in the middle.

Well not _right in_ the middle exactly.

Right now she’s laying on one of the fallen trees, bark thrusting up into bare skin creating the contrast Regina wanted to achieve. Her golden hair are dragged down with gravity towards the forest floor, her head is turned in the opposite direction.

Because Regina never shoots faces.

That is her choice and it made her stand out in the crowd of other photographers. At least that’s what her agent tells her. She knows that there are others doing this, she is not that blind to the scene, but she’s known for being notorious and persistent in this endeavor. So when they say she never shoots faces, it means _never_. She knows that they sometimes call her _headless Mills_. She doesn’t care. Up there along with _her royal coldness, evil bitch_ and _queen perfect_ or some other combination of those, it’s not the worst thing she’s been called for getting the job done. And done well.

That’s why her calendar is overflowing with work and her _colleagues_ are left whining about how horrible she is.

She might be just a bit proud because of that.

Today is a hand-held day, even though she’s got at least three stands in her trunk. The light is somehow whimsical and she needs to move freely if she wants to depend only on a natural lighting – which she does.

As for her model. The work flow from the trial is back with full force, they’re even more in sync now after having the talk beforehand. And Regina is really grateful that the girl doesn’t talk to her at all, only complies when asked to move one way or another. And when she shoots her, Regina’s mind drifts off like it never does while she works. It drifts to the memories of her father and of light and summer vacation. It drifts to her first love and warmth and kisses. It drifts to soft skin and blonde hair and green eyes.

And Regina doesn’t mind.

Apart from the times when she notices.

-

The way back is as dreadful as one would expect. And there’s traffic and the girl only laughs when Regina pushes her horn, annoyed.

“I bet they would move faster if they saw the look on your face.” She says smiling brightly as if they weren’t stuck, not moving an inch, for a good hour now.

Regina tries those breathing exercises her friend Marian taught her.

They doesn’t work.

And the girl shows a bag into her face asking “brownie?”

And Regina might just murder someone today.

-

When they’re back and Regina parked her car the girl seems to be in a hurry to get out, but before she runs away – without any word – she stops and ducks her head down through the open doors of her car. Regina is still inside.

“When’s the next session?” The girl asks.

“Stop calling my shoots _sessions_ , you’re not in therapy. My assistant will call you.” Regina says and the girl nods looking very thoughtful.

“Could you give me bit more of a heads up than this time?” She asks, “I have a life, you know.”

And Regina rolls her eyes and she unbuckles her seat-belt and says: “I’ll make a schedule.”

“Of course you will.”

And Regina hears the smile in her voice, but she can’t witness it because the girl runs away as if someone chased her.

And then Regina remembers that she still doesn’t know her name.

-

“I don’t know Regina.” Kathryn sighs, exasperated.

“Well, isn’t it in her contract?” Regina asks pointing at the computer that Kathryn sits in front of. Kathryn looks up at her, eyebrows arched.

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen her contract. Your contract is with her agency not with her personally. You know that.”

And Regina presses her lips and clenches her jaw and _of course_ she knows this, she just… forgot?

“Wasn’t there a name when they send you a file on her?” Regina tries yet again.

“Oh my God Regina! Stop pestering me! You’re meeting her tomorrow, ask her yourself!”

And that is the extent of patience Kathryn has for her that day.

-

Regina doesn’t bother to tell Kathryn to tell the agency to tell the girl that she’s supposed to drive herself to the location. It is convenient when they drive together anyway, because they can talk about the shoot and not waste the time when they’re actually there. It makes perfect sense.

Still, Regina is annoyed when the girl slides in the seat wearing that red _thing_ again. Her feelings must be apparent of her face because the girl shrugs and says: “What? It’s cold.”

And what is she supposed to say to that, really?

They drive in silence for a bit, just like before but Regina fidgets in her seat and the girl huffs and asks: “What?”

“You know that we haven’t even introduced ourselves? It’s very rude and I’m sorry for not doing this before, my name is-“

But before she can actually finish introducing herself she is interrupted. But _of course she is._

“Nuh uh.”

“What is wrong?” Regina asks, because clearly, something _has_ to be wrong. Right?

“I like the anonymity,” the girl says with a big bright smile, “don’t you?”

And Regina actually turns her head around at that – only for a second, she is a responsible driver after all – her eyebrows scrunched.

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” The girl continues, “Without the names we’re practically strangers-“

“We are strangers.” Regina mumbles, but the girl rambles on as if she hadn’t heard her.

“-and you’re taking pictures of me. While I’m naked. In the forest. This is some thriller worthy kinda shit.”

And Regina can’t help herself and she chuckles softly.

“You’re an idiot.”

-

“Piece of junk!” Regina hits the wheel hard and the girl jumps up in her seat slightly.

“Open the hood.” The girl says.

“What?”

“Open. The. Hood.” She repeats slowly and unlocks the seat belt and gets out of the car. Regina releases the hood and the girl opens it. Then she disappears hidden behind the piece of metal.

Regina stays in her seat and maybe she should care what is happening but she is _so tired_. The call from her mother drained every ounce of her energy.

And then the girl closes the hood and she’s back in a car and she smirks. “Try now.” She says.

And the car roars to life.

It’s silent when she drives but Regina’s thoughts are running wild and she tightens her hold on the wheel.

“You wanna talk about it?” The girl asks, and _of course_ she would, the annoyance that she is.

And Regina doesn’t want to talk, she doesn’t.

But she talks anyway, and all her rage at her mother spills out in the open.

And so the car ride becomes some kind of confession ground, which Regina never expected to need in the first place.

-

Regina sits in her dark room looking over pictures from - how the idiot girl calls it - _the forest sessions._ She likes the hands on experience, holding the photograph so she can feel and see better. She also likes to sort through the pictures when the project is as big as this one. She finds she gets more ideas for next parts this way. So she looks over the pictures slowly. She follows the lines and curves and edges, similarly to when she takes the photo. She sighs.

The four more shoots went in the similar fashion to the two previous ones. Apart from the fact that the girl tripped over her equipment two times and even managed to fall into the river once. At least she was naked ( _small miracles,_ Regina assumes). And they still work well together and the girl somehow makes Regina calmer and more focused – even though she daydreams more often than not – and Regina feels fulfilled after every shoot. Their non-working time is mostly bearable, even if Regina finds herself annoyed more than half of the time. She can take it because the pictures are good.

Really good. And she doesn’t usually praise her work, especially when the project is not even half finished.

This whole bike accident might have been a good thing after all.

And Regina gasps, because _Robin._

-

“I’m sorry I haven’t called yet, I’ve been-“

“Busy,” He interrupts, “I assumed.” And Regina nods her head even though he can’t see her. “I heard that they sent you replacement, any good?”

And Regina clears up her throat and says: “bearable.”

“I’m really sorry.” He says. “I really like you. We would have worked well together.”

 “Yes.” Regina says absently and she thinks about the woman model she didn’t want to work with.

“We still can, I mean, when I start walking again.” He says and chuckles into the phone.

And Regina says “yes”, because she would really like to work with him. But it somehow feels like she’s agreeing to something different entirely.

-

Next shoot is another location, not so open this time as it is an old, abandoned plane factory. It is unkempt and the grass is growing in the cracks of the concrete floor. But what drew Regina in here in the first place are the windows. They’re huge and oval and composed of small rectangles. And they’re dirty, like everything in here is.

“It’s filthy in here.”

 _Well that’s another word for it,_ Regina thinks. And well yes, that is true.

“I hope you booked me an appointment with some good doctor after all the days I’d have to spend lying and touching, well, anything in here really.”

The girl looks positively disgusted with the idea, which is hilarious as she had no such problems with lying around the forest (not to mention falling into the river). And so Regina laughs.

“Really?”

“Really.”

And Regina shakes her head and smirks and says “take off your clothes.”

-

And the girl’s hair look perfect in the light that shines through the dirty windows, and when she takes shot after shot after shot she can’t help but wonder what she thought she could possibly do with Robin in here.

Those hair are long and they curl in this soft way that hints at lazy mornings in bed and Regina is mesmerized and she can’t help but want to have them in every frame she takes that day.

When she’s back at her studio and she’s finally calmed after her work rush – she always gets the rush after a good photoshoot – she thinks that this might have been a bit excessive. But they still got a few days on the location, so she doesn’t worry too much.

-

When Kathryn walks into the studio – minutes before Regina has to go – with a sombre expression painted beautifully all over her face she knows that this isn’t good. When Kathryn handles her the phone she knows it’s worse.

“It’s your mother.”

_Jackpot._

“Mother.” Regina says.

“Regina, darling. How are you?” Her mother’s voice is always overly sweet when they haven’t talked in a long time. And by long time, she means a week.

“I am well.”

“You should have called.”

“I was busy.”

“Ah yes, this hobby of yours.” Her mother says and Regina must have heard this a thousand times by now but it still makes her blood boil every single time.

“This is my work mother,” she almost snarls, Kathryn who’s been standing by her side this whole time flinches. “I am a professional, I’ve earned my name and my brand.”

“Of course, of course.” Her mother dismisses, “When you’re done with all that your rightful place is there, waiting. God knows your sister doesn’t want it.”

She doesn’t want it either, but then she never really had a choice with their mother.

“How is your love life? Anything in that department that I can be satisfied with?” Her mother asks and Regina clenches her hand around the phone.

“I have no time mother.”

And her mother laughs.

“Of course you have the time! All those male models, should be easy to pick some arm candy dear. He doesn’t even have to have brains, only make sure he’s from the good family. Oh, and check the health history, I want healthy grandchildren.” Regina almost sighs at that, _almost. “_ It would be good for the family. God knows you’re almost past bearing age.”

“Mother.” Regina warns, because her patience threads only so thick.

“Hush now, I know you always wanted to have children, your daddy told me as much.”

And it’s always _your daddy_ , not _my husband_ or even _Henry_. And Regina is late and she really doesn’t feel like handling this any longer.

“Mother, I have to go.”

“Very well. Call me.” She stresses. “Farewell.”

And Regina almost throws the phone at the wall.

“I’ll cancel your photoshoot.” Kathryn says and moves to her desk.

-

And so Kathryn called Marian and Marian decided that they’re going out tonight because she apparently _needs_ this. And when Regina opens the door to her condo to two screeching women she’s not sure why she is even friends with them. They are acting like teenagers and when Kathryn hollers “drinks!” Regina is not entirely sure they are not ones.

They force her into her tightest and shortest dress and she needs to fight them over doing her own make up – but she wins, because they don’t call her _evil bitch_ for nothing. When she is pleasantly buzzed – and she’s sure Kathryn and Marian are way past that stage – her _friends_ drag her into, what seems to be, the busies club in town.

“I hate it here.” She basically shouts into Marian’s ear and the woman just laughs at her.

“You hate everywhere!”

That is not true, but Regina can’t really argue her point when there are bodies pushing at her from all sides.

By some miracle they find an empty table in the corner of the club and when all of them have yet another drink – Regina lost count which one that is – Marian smiles at her like a lion. Or hyena. _Hyena might fit better, actually_.

“So, who’s the model?” She asks and Regina just shakes her head because of course that is her first question of the night. Kathryn laughs at her side.

“Robin!” She shouts and Regina snorts and she rubs her neck because this isn’t who came to her mind when Marian asked. She takes a sip of her drink.

“Robin the helpless bike rider.” Kathryn helpfully fills in. “Poor baby had an accident, needs Regina to kiss it all better.” And then she falls into fit of giggles splashing her drink all over the floor.

_Why is she friends with them again?_

And then Marian clears her throat and whisper-shouts leaning closer to Regina.

“So, who’s the blonde?”

And Regina is really confused now. “What blonde?”

“The one that’s been eyeing you for good five minutes now.”

So Regina turns her head to look where Marian is looking and well, there she is. Tight red dress, golden hair curled, falling down her back, heels that are definitely higher than the ones she has on her feet right now. The _other_ model. The girl meets her eyes and smiles.

“She’s an idiot.” Regina says.

“Does she have a name?” Marian prods, excitement hidden under the question.

“Probably.” Regina says and smiles back at the girl.

“Let’s go say hi!” Kathryn screeches as she drags her along.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time posting SQ fic and a long time since I posted anything of mine in general. Therefore: I'm nervous. I've always been freaked out about being ooc (I'm bound to be a bit, as it's an au but you know) so I'll be happy to get your opinions on that. Or on anything at all about this thing really.  
> I'd also like to apologize to anyone who read this and is a photographer/knows more about photography than I do - I hope I didn't do too badly but you never know so I'm sorry.  
> You should also know that I'm not a native English speaker so feel free to point any mistakes.  
> Well, that's all of my excuses for now. I hope you enjoyed, let me know in the comments if you can ♥


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to every one who wrote me a comment, left kudos, bookmarked this fic and - of course - read it ♥. I'm so glad you're enjoying it so much! And I hope you'll continue to do so with this chapter.  
> About the season finale, there's only one thing I'd like to say: this ship is ours! Long live the Swan Queen!
> 
> (the rating has been changed to M, although it is a rather light M so if you think I should leave it at T let me know please)

 

And apparently all the idiot girl’s friends have been sworn to secrecy because she can’t drag her name out of anyone. And she tries, really hard. But she might be a _bit_ drunk by now so her persuasive powers might have lessened. She is not sure.

She gets a few other names though: Ruby, Mulan, Archie, Graham and Fredrick, but she is not sure who belongs to what name. Not that it matters now because no one seems to care much about that. They are laughing and drinking and she is actually enjoying herself. But not as much as Kathryn, who makes out with one of the girl’s friends on the couch beside them. Regina looks at them and she is about to say something when there’s a warm breath in her ear and she shivers when a voice she knows well says:

“Let’s dance.”

“I don’t dance.” She answers looking right into those green eyes, that look almost black in this light – or rather the absence of light.

“You do now.” The idiot says and she drags her onto the dancefloor.

Regina’s never heard this song before and she just _can’t_ dance like this but when she feels the girl’s hands on her hips and her breath on her neck and she hears a softly whispered “just move” she can’t seem to be able to do anything else but just that.

And somehow she dances. _They_ dance. To the music she doesn’t know the steps to and on the dancefloor with barely any space. And she feels the body she saw naked so many times fitting into hers so perfectly that it’s scary.

And it is _scary_ , even in her drunken haze.

Fortunately at this very moment both of her friends basically smash into them, Kathryn almost lands face down on the floor.

“I think we should go.” Regina says and the idiot girl nods smiling softly.

-

The only thing Regina remembers the next day is that they went dancing, and they talked about Robin and that they met few friends of someone’s. She is not sure.

When she groans loudly two more groans answer her right back.

It’s going to be a really long Sunday.

-

The girl is really adamant about laying around or leaning against anything in this place. But they’re both professionals and Regina really needs those shots, and well she _pays_ for this. Which means they have to work it out somehow.

Which in turn means that Regina bribes the girl with some home baked apple pastries (and _thank heavens_ that she and Marian baked some while being hangovered because otherwise she would have no ammunition).

The next few shoots go well after that but Regina seems to catch herself lingering her eyes on the girl’s body a bit longer than professionally necessary. Not that she has no right to do this because _she does,_ she _pays_ for this. In a professional way, of course. This is their job, and there’s nothing different now than it’s been before and yet Regina’s eyes _linger_.

And she doesn’t know why.

Or maybe she doesn’t remember.

She’s not entirely sure.  

-

When Robin calls her and asks her out, she says yes.

-

“I keep having this dream.” Marian says to her while they sit in her studio looking over the newest shots from – as the idiot girl named it - _plane graveyard sessions._ Regina is really happy with them, especially the hair ones. She’s not sure if she’ll be able to pick just a few.

“Are you even listening to me?” Marian asks, without a hint of irritation. And Regina nods. So Marian grabs her by her chin and turns her head away from the photos so she would look her in the eyes.

“I keep having this dream that I’ve made out that night we went out, with some girl. I don’t remember her name.”

Regina swats at Marian’s hand and turns back to the pictures.

“That is not necessarily out of the question.” She says. She remembers there were at least two girls, one Roby? Robyn? The other one was called like one of those Disney princesses, Regina’s not sure which one. There was also a guy named like a bread.

“That was one hell of a night.” Marian laughs.

“We’re too old for this.” Regina sighs as she keeps looking through the pictures.

“No way!” Marian yells and then she pulls something out of her bag and Regina can only roll her eyes.

“Marian, we are not doing this.”

“How about on the rooftop?”

And well, Regina hasn’t smoked in a while and they are not _that_ old yet so she nods somewhat reluctantly and Marian calls out to Kathryn.

It almost feels like college.

-

“No fucking way!” The girl whines when she pulls up and parks her car.

“Must you be so crass?” Regina asks her while unbuckling her seat belt.

“I fucking must, _your majesty_ , if you're gonna keep dragging me in all those unsanitary locations!”

And Regina honestly hates being called that, but the girl insisted that if she’s gonna call her an idiot then she has to have her own name for her. And so, from this one time she let it slip that her father used to call her  _princess_ when she was just a little girl the nickname emerged like if it's been a given. 

Regina doesn’t know why she’s still humoring this idiot with all this _anonymous_ nonsense.

They both walk towards the secluded beach she found some time two years ago when she tried to escape the chaos of town, Regina drags most of her equipment with some help from her model. When she lays her bags on the blanket she threw on the sand and starts setting up the girl sighs and says: “Henry would like it here.”

And Regina almost says yes, because her daddy _would_ like it here. But she doesn’t. She only bites her lip and continues with her work. It still sometimes hurts too much when she thinks of him.

“You gonna make me lay in the sand, am I right?” The girl whines yet again and Regina chuckles because, honestly that is kind of adorable, when her forehead does this thing and she almost pouts her lips, and her eyes are basically begging Regina not to do this. But of course Regina would do this. She had this planned for _over_ half a year now.

So the girl starts taking her clothes off. Every piece comes off more sharply than the previous one and then is almost thrown into Regina’s face.

“I’m gonna have sand in very uncomfortable places because of you. I hope you understand the weight of my sacrifice.” She says as she sheds her clothes.

And Regina can only smile and smile and smile.

“Of course dear.”

- 

Her date with Robin is nice.

They go to a fancy restaurant and eat and talk and have a good time. Then they take a walk down in the park. And it’s evening and it’s slightly chilly and Robin gives her his jacket to wear and it’s nice.

And he buys her flowers, and offers her a hand to hold and smiles at her. And she likes him. She _really_ likes him.

And when he takes her home, he walks her to her door and kisses her. And it’s nice.

It’s really, really, _really_ nice.

-

The girl lays on the beach, all covered in sand - because Regina made her dive into the water and then asked her to roll in the sand ( _like a dog?_ The girl asked and Regina said that _of course, yes, like a dog_ with a roll of her eyes. She then regretted those words when half of the beach landed on her and her equipment).

She might have even felt guilty about this, but the sun shines just _right_ and those small grains catch the light just so, and the idiot looks almost magical. It is something else.

“You know what?” The girl asks, and Regina is completely startled, because they _never_ talk while shooting. So when she looks at her it is with surprise in her eyes. “Sometimes I can’t believe that you’re on the other side of the lens.” The girl says. And those green eyes bore into her, and they seem to look right through her and Regina could swear she sees the girl blush but she can’t be sure, because the sun is shining and they’re both tired.

And she says nothing, because she doesn’t know what to say.

But her heart seems to skip a beat for a second.

-

The beach shoot is yet another win and Regina can’t be even annoyed by the amount of time the idiot spent whining about sand getting everywhere – and calling those shoots _stupid sand everywhere sessions._

She will buy her a cake, or a dozen bear claws, Regina decides. Because she _can_ be nice from time to time.

While she looks through her film she hears the banging on the darkroom’s door – Kathryn learned well via one mistake that she should not, under any circumstances, open those doors.

“Regina get out of there you hermit!”

And _of course_ it’s Marian, because her friends decided she needs more _friend_ time – whatever that means – and so she has to endure them weekly.

Regina sighs and gets up, turns off the red lights and draws heavy curtains over the second door. When she walks out the sun is still up and so she has to cover her eyes for a moment to be able to see things.

“Regina!” Marian shakes her by her arms and Regina almost flinches, _almost_ (she mostly got used to the way her friend communicates with this world). “You went on a date with Robin and you didn’t tell us?!” Kathryn is standing behind her with her arms folded over her chest, looking positively betrayed.

And Regina wants to roll her eyes, she really does but there’s something else on her mind first. Because, _who told them?!_ So this is exactly what she asks.

“Who told you?”

“Your mother might have said something, I don’t know…” Marian says looking down at her feet and Kathryn snits and walks out of her studio. And Regina has no idea how come Marian is in contact with her mother. Before she can ask her, Kathryn storms towards them with a look on her face that Regina knows really well and a phone in her hand. And so she doesn’t even have to ask who it is.

“Mother.” She barks into the receiver.

“Regina, dear!” And her mother’s voice is undeniably venomous.

-

It’s not like she didn’t want anyone to know. No.

It’s just.

It’s _her_ life. And she’d like to take it as slow as she can.

As slow as humanly possible.

But she sighs, and she sends the message to Robin anyways.

-

“I swear to God, you’re choosing all those locations just to spite me.” The girl says and Regina can’t stop her chuckle. But the fact is that it’s not true.

Well, she actually changed her initial idea of the location to this one, because after the beach she was wondering how the idiot girl would look covered in flour. She also liked the irony of being the Mills in a mill.

When they go inside the old wooden structure they both gasp because it is so beautiful it’s haunting. The wooden beams, and white empty bags, ropes and spider webs and grains and flour. So much flour, everywhere.

“This is worse than glitter.” The idiot says and then suddenly her eyes widen and Regina has to stop herself from bursting into laughter, because the horror she sees there _is real_.

“I take it back! I take it back!” The girl almost screams at her and starts undressing quickly, as if this would somehow prevent the glitter idea from settling in her mind.

And so Regina laughs as she takes out her camera and her stands.

And the girl smirks and says:

“Cover me in flour you kinky photographer.”

-

And Regina congratulates herself on the idea, because even if she’s all covered in flour it is worth it.

Her idiot looks like a nymph, with the light playing on her flour-covered skin. The flour dust dances in the air and all Regina can do is watch and shoot. And nod, of course. If she could pat herself on the back she’d do that too.

When they get out of the mill – first day of a last segment of this project – they both look slightly ridiculous. The difference is, Regina can shake the flour off of her hair and her clothes. The idiot, on the other hand, cannot.

So there’s not much thought induced in the process, when she walks to a hose she sees in the grass and turns it on and sprays the girl with – what she assumes must be – ice cold water.

The girl shrieks and jumps so high that Regina is not sure it was real.

“You fucking brat! I can’t believe you did this!” She shouts and Regina laughs again, because:

“I’m not quite done yet. You’re not getting all this flour into my car.” And she sprays the girl again, and she continues with it, basically running after her with a hose. Regina is really glad that there’s no one else around here.

“Your damn majesty!” The girl shouts, “I’m gonna get you for this!”

After mostly all the flour is gone – at least as far as Regina can see –she throws a towel at the girl and takes out few apples. When the girl sees that and chuckles Regina throws her one.

“You think you’re so clever.” The girls says. And Regina smirks.

“I don’t just _think,_ I know it.”

-

When they park in front of her studio Regina decides to ask the girl up for a drink, maybe show her the results of their work (she never really does that, but maybe this time she could?). But when she asks, the girl only smiles apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I’d love to, but I have a thing.” She says.

“A thing.”

And the girl nods. “Any other time. I’m really sorry.”

And Regina feels so stupidly rejected, which makes completely no sense at all. Because that is normal, people having other plans and refusing the invitation.

She doesn’t notice that she still holds the wheel in her hands.

Well, until the idiot kisses her on the cheek and she’s being dragged down to earth by all the demons or angels. Or both.

“Thank you for today.” The girl says and then she disappears.

And Regina is not quite sure what happened.

-

Regina stands with Robin in front of her mother’s house and she fidgets. Because she _knows_ it won’t work. She just knows it and she honestly can’t take yet another rejection from her mother’s mouth.

But then they go in, and Zelena is there with her husband – a surgeon, he doesn’t have a name in their family he is _the surgeon_ – and her mother is all happy and smiles and the table is loaded with food and they sit and eat and have charming conversations and her mother loves him.

She _loves_ Robin.

And Regina honestly doesn’t know if she should cry or laugh or rage.

Because when she looks at her father’s portrait in the dining room she’s convinced that this is wrong.

This is _oh so very, very wrong._

-

“Why are you so snappy?” Kathryn asks her when she throws yet another pen at the wall.

“I’m not snappy.”

“Sure you aren’t. Look at you, all rainbows and unicorns.”

And Regina grunts.

“Not everyone can be as happy as you are all the time, Kathryn.”

“Oh for heaven's sake Regina, tell me what’s going on!”

“My mother invited me and Robin to dinner.” She says finally and looks up at Kathryn. She is the only one that can understand, knowing her and her family from their childhood – even if their roads divided at some point in time – she _knows_ her mother and she saw first-hand what Regina had to endure through her youth.

“Well, fuck.” Kathryn swears and Regina hangs her head, hands coming into her hair and she pulls.

“She loved him.” She whispers.

“What?!”

“She _loved_ him, Kathryn.”

And when Regina looks up she sees the confusion on Kathryn’s face. She also notices that Marian stands right behind her. She has no idea what she’s heard.

“Then what’s the problem?” Kathryn asks.

And apparently Marian’s heard enough because:

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” she says, “the blonde one.”

And just like that Regina bursts into tears.

-

They’re sitting on her studio’s rooftop. They’re huddled in a blanket, they’re drinking some cheap beer that Marian always drags around with her – it’s warm and it tastes horrible.

And Regina doesn’t know if she just reached the lowest low of her life or if it just feels that way now.

Because she doesn’t understand.

She doesn’t understand _anything_.

“So, you’re a lesbian now?” Kathryn says, and Marian shoves her in the side so hard Regina is afraid she’ll fall off of the roof. “Marian, what the fuck.”

“You’re so heterosexual Kathryn, sometimes I can’t stand it. Honestly.”

“What is that supposed to mean?! I’m not-”

“Regina’s never been straight, you know.”

And Regina’s eyes widen a bit because that’s news to her, but apparently Marian possesses the knowledge of the whole universe now. She also notices Regina’s reaction.

“C’mon Regina, seriously? You almost slept with that girl in college!”

“You did what?!” And Kathryn sounds betrayed yet again, “how come I’m just obtaining this information now?!”

And Regina’s head hurts. Probably from the beer. Probably from the crying, too. She doesn't remember last time she felt this pathetic.

“It doesn’t matter. That has nothing to do with this.”

“Doesn’t it?” Marian inquiries.

“No it doesn’t. I’m probably just overwhelmed, and you both know how my mother's _opinions_ work on me. She got me surprised, I need to process that. I should be happy, really. She finally approves.”

Kathryn and Marian sigh in unison.

“You should, but are you?” Marian asks. Regina shrugs.

“What about the blonde one?” Kathryn asks.

“Nothing.”

And well, that is about the only thing she is sure about right now.

-

Kathryn volunteered to chaperone. Which sounds rather ridiculous, nevertheless Regina actually considers the option for a second. But she can’t do this to the idiot, and she couldn’t do this to any of her models really. Because she knows how hard it is with acts when there’s one person, let alone two. And, alright,  the girl seems to be really fairly okay with taking her clothes off in front of people, but the dynamic always changes when there’s suddenly another person and Regina doesn’t want to risk it. Not this far into the project.

So they buckle up and drive back to the mill.

They don’t talk the whole way there, and Regina got unused to this and suddenly feels awkward. She hopes it’s only her that feels this way.

Then they’re inside the mill and Regina’s equipment is out and even though she feared she will become too stiff it feels like work again and so when they start Regina doesn’t feel like anything changed at all.

And nothing really changed, right?

She just had a hearty cry over hells know what (boyfriend that is not really her boyfriend? The girl that kissed her cheek? Her dead father? Her very alive mother? Herself?) and now she’ll power through this project like she powered through all the other times in her life.

And _it's not_ like this is about the girl anyway. Right?

So they don’t talk as they always do, until the idiot asks the question. (Regina changes lenses, so she’s not working she supposes – speaking very, very technically.)

“Why are you doing nudes?”

And well, that wasn’t a question she’s been expecting – not that she’s been expecting anything really.

“Acts.” Regina corrects and the girl chuckles softly and rolls her eyes.

She’s leaning on her side, head supported by the hand, her left leg bent and brought over and up slightly to her chest.

“Why are you doing _acts_ then?”

And Regina shrugs, not looking up at the girl with green, green eyes.

“I like the simplicity and complexity of the human body. I like the play of the light and shadow, the colors and structures. I like that it still is a taboo.” And she looks up at the girl, and the girl smirks. “Acts are not the only thing I do, you know.” She clears up.

“I assumed.” The girl says. “But they’re the ones you enjoy the most.” And it is not a question but a statement and Regina doesn’t even nod because there’s no reason to. They both know it’s true.

Regina snaps her lens into place and looks up at the girl again. Her eyebrows scrunched.

“How old are you exactly?” She asks, because it’s been bothering her for some time now and she deserves an answer after giving her own.

And the girl smirks again. “Twenty-eight,” she says and Regina’s eyes widen and her brows rise up. Smirk turns into a wide smile. “I know, I look like a baby.” She adds.

And Regina chuckles.

And she feels lighter again.

-

 “So, are you my girlfriend now?” Robin asks and Regina’s heart seems to beat louder and louder in her chest. He leans towards her and her lips open to give him an answer. Some answer. _Any_ answer really. Anything but _this_.

Because he kisses her, and she kisses him back.

And a kiss is an answer too.

-

It’s the last day of the shoot that the idiot named _her majesty's mill sessions_ (she was way too smug about this one) and it’s the last of the shoots she will do with the girl and that thought weights on her.

And so Regina doesn’t really think much when she asks the girl up into her studio after they’re back. They drag the equipment up the stairs and leave it by the table. Kathryn is already gone – she usually is at this time when Regina is not working inside. So the lights are off and the girl stops Regina from turning them on because “there’s still some light”.

That is true, but not for long because the sun is already setting.

Still, Regina doesn’t turn the lights on. She can show the girl something if they stand close to the windows. And so Regina walks over to one of her wardrobes and opens a drawer and takes the photos out. Then she walks toward the girl and then drags her by her arm while she chuckles at being manhandled.

Regina opens the big glass door that lead up to the fire escape stairs and up towards the roof and she shoves the pictures into the girls hands. Stifling, warm air sneaks through the doors and between them into her air conditioned study. _It will rain soon,_ Regina thinks.

The girl studies the pictures, she only holds few sorted ones, because otherwise it would take them hours to look through.

“Are you satisfied?” The girl asks and Regina nods. They’re standing really close, the warmth of the girl’s body almost rivals this from the outside.

“I look so much better without the head.” The girl chuckles and Regina can’t agree. She doesn’t think she’d like her much without those eyes. The eyes that snap up and look at her now.

She’s never seen them this close before.

They seemed to change the color to another shade of green.

“Do you like them?” Regina whispers, even though she didn’t mean to.

“I love them.”

And somehow the words mean something else entirely. But Regina isn’t sure what.

Regina isn’t sure.

She takes the pictures back and hides them into the drawer again and when she turns around this idiot girl with green eyes stands there with one of her cameras in one hand and the other hand stretched out towards her. And the rain just started pouring from the sky.

-

And they’re up on the roof and it’s raining, and the sun is setting and it really is beautiful but Regina can’t look at anything else but this girl who stands there, leaning against the massive chimney – or whatever the hell that thing is. Their clothes are becoming more and more soaked with the rain and they just stand there, until the girl moves her arms and Regina understands that she is taking her clothes off.

And so Regina does the only thing she can do now. She starts taking pictures.

And off go her jeans, not an easy task, being almost entirely soaked and so,  _so_ tight (always so tight). But the girl manages with the help of the wall at her back. And she stands with bare feet and naked legs and she takes her tank top off. Slowly.

And Regina doesn’t stop shooting.

And it feels intimate on a very different level, because she’s never photographed undressing before. And it is scary as much as it is exciting. And her heart drums in her chest and she smiles when the sodden cloth lands on the ground.

And Regina comes closer as she shoots, much closer than she’s been before and the girl snaps her pink bra open – ridiculous thing with little wings all over it – and she takes it off, and she lets it fall.

And those green, green eyes look at her while she snaps picture after picture and she bites her lower lip when the girl slides her panties off of her hips. They land on the ground beneath her feet. And the girl chuckles and she hides her face in between her hands, only one green eye looking at her through the slit between her fingers.

And Regina can’t look through the lens anymore.

And she is so close, but she’s not close enough.

And the rain drops slide down the perfect, milky skin reflecting the light of a setting sun and the colorful banners of the neon ads. And Regina takes a breath and she wants, wants, _wants_.

And nothing else matters anymore.

So she closes the distance without further thought, and she pushes girl’s hands away from her face, and their lips hover over the other’s for a moment – much too long – before they lean in and kiss for the first time.

And the touch is like an electric current, prickling from where she touches through her whole body right towards her very toes. And Regina moans, because she can’t help herself.

And she feels the girl’s fingers clutching at her wet shirt and dragging her closer, pulling their bodies flush together. And their lips part and they both moan this time.

And Regina, Regina drags her hands softly from the girl’s face down her neck, down her collarbones, down her breasts – nipples protruding sharply – down her stomach, down her hips to her thighs because this is as far as she can reach in this position.

And she breathes hard and slow into the girls lips and she looks up those green eyes and the girl leans down this time and kisses her forcefully. Their mouths open and tongues brush against each other and Regina is not sure whose moan she hears. And her hands slide up the slim body and she touches breasts, palming them and squeezing and rolling the nipples between her fingers. And she doesn’t care about anything now, because nothing else matters but this.

And the next moan comes deep and primal from the other woman’s lips. And Regina is proud as she moves down from the lips to kiss the ear and suck the earlobe and then neck and down, down right to one of the hard, perfect nipples.

And she takes it into her mouth and she sucks.

And the moans only grow louder.

When her hands wander lower to the girl’s sex she feels her shiver and Regina abandons the task her mouth was occupied with and she looks into the dark green eyes.

“Please.” Is the only word the girl says but Regina wants this word to be something different entirely, so she leans closer and whispers to the girl’s ear:

“Regina.”

And she leans away again because she wants to watch, when her hand finally wanders further down into the warmth between the other woman’s legs, she wants to watch.

And she is not disappointed, because the girl sighs as if in relief and the moan follows right behind when Regina’s fingers slide inside.

“Regina.” And it is the most beautiful thing Regina’s ever heard in her life.

And when she moves inside of her with purpose she only gets more and more of this word that is a prayer and a blessing and her name all in one.

And those green eyes never leave hers.

-

She is somehow surprised when strong arms push her against the glass window inside of her studio, even though she’s seen those arms she’s never knew that they could haul her up and push her and hold her there. Now she knows, and she’s not unhappy with that knowledge.

Her skirt and her shirt has been lost somewhere down the stairs and her bra seems like an easy enough target to be pulled off next but the girl seems to be too impatient and she just slides it down her breasts and she latches onto them like if she’s been starved. And the way she licks and nips and sucks, she might as well be.

Regina’s panties are ripped off of her but she doesn’t care. Between the moans and the kisses and the _need_ this is the furthest thing from her mind right now.

And she almost screams in pleasure as two fingers enter her without a warning and she moves against them instantly. Craving everything and more, more, _more._

And, “I want-“ she sighs, “I want-”

But there’re lips hushing her in a kiss and soon she feels release and she moans loudly and finally, finally.

_Finally_ something feels so damn right.

-

And she dreams.

Of light and of warmth and of happiness.

But it all quickly changes to darkness, and coldness, and emptiness. Just like it always does. So she runs, lost and alone.

And then from this darkness emerges a snake.

Snake with her mother’s eyes.

-

She wakes up disoriented to a lips kissing her shoulder and she jumps up and away in an instant. She covers herself with a blanket she didn’t even realise she’s been holding.

And no. No. No. _No._

She wasn’t supposed to do that.

And she clutches the blanket closer to her chest and she looks at the face that was smiling just a second ago. Now there’s only concern written all over it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She has a _boyfriend_ which her mother approves of, and she has an exhibition to prepare to and she has so many, many things on her head right now and she still doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand. And why did she do this?

And she doesn’t know what to do and she feels like crying but crying is not an option right now.

“Regina, what is going on?” The girl asks.

And so Regina answers with the most logical thing that comes to her head right now.

“Nothing is going on. It’s time for you to go.”

“What?” The girl asks, eyebrows scrunched.

“We had a good time, now it’s time to go.”

And the girl looks at her hands and then back at Regina again and she says:

“But I- I thought-“

And Regina doesn’t know why she feels angry right now but the anger channels through her and out, easy as it always was.

“What did you think it was?” She asks, and her tone is clipped and she doesn’t remember if she’s ever talked like that to this girl. “Haven’t you jumped into beds with all of your photographers? Young pretty thing like you.”

And Regina can see those green eyes hardening. And then tear rolling slowly down the cheek. She doesn’t look after that.

“What the fuck happened Regina?”

And _what the fuck happened indeed._

“Nothing happened. This is me. This has always been me. Now go.” She says and the girl moves swiftly, throwing on some shirt that’s been laying around her studio for months now – she doesn’t even know where it came from – and she grabs her bag and her shoes and she looks one last time at Regina before she storms off to never be seen again.

And Regina feels good.

For one whole minute.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thoughts? ~~(Please don't kill me).~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and leaving me kudos and comments. They always make my day.  
> I edited this one pretty heavily, so it took some more time but I hope it turned out good.  
> And so this is it. Enjoy the ride.

 

Kathryn finds her when she comes to work – which she shouldn’t because it’s her day off – in the pile of blankets and pillows and silks. And Regina is sure she must look horrible because before anything else happens Kathryn calls Marian.

Then she rushes to Regina and enfolds her in a hug.

“Kathryn, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

And Regina just can’t cry anymore.

-

“You need to take some time off.” Marian says to her while she helps Kathryn put some kind of hippie poncho through her head. “You’re working yourself too hard.”

“This has nothing to do with work.” She snaps. And she looks at them feeling immediately guilty. Well, so maybe it does. A bit. She sighs. “After the exhibition is over I’ll get some time off.” She says and her friends smile.

They almost drag her down the stairs and push her into the back seat of a car. When Kathryn starts the engine Regina says: “not to my place.”

And so they drive and end up at Marian’s chill, bohemian house that looks like a weed farm on the inside. Marian once tried to introduce Regina to gardening and it didn’t go well – because apparently the only plants Regina is able to care for have to be at least as tall as her.

But Marian has a green thumb and she loves being surrounded by plants, even on the inside. And well, maybe some of those plants are cannabis but even if they were – which Marian says there aren’t – no one would ever find them in between all this greenery.

Regina welcomes the change, from her impeccably clean condo to this chaos.

It might distract her for a while. For a little while at least.

Only so she could just go to sleep for one night and not see the idiot’s face when she closes her eyelids.

She just needs one good night of rest and then she can handle anything.

And apparently she says the words out loud because Kathryn looks at her with something that resembles pity just a bit too much for her to handle and Marian says: “I’ll brew you some tea.”

And she hates tea. She still hates tea.

-

So Kathryn and Marian drag her into some psychiatrist office.

She attends, reluctantly.

Not that she needs this in any way, but she is not one of those who condemn before they try something. And well, her _friends_ wouldn’t leave her alone so there is that.

When she sees the therapist she swears he looks familiar, and she’s pretty sure she knows someone named Archie, but she doesn’t know who.

-

Her mother called twice in one day, Robin’s already been at the studio, Kathryn and Marian still coddle her but that doesn’t matter.

She just wants to dive into her work, choose her pieces, print them large, drive them off, attend the opening and then go away on a cruise or someplace where no one will know her and everyone who knows her won’t be able to reach her.

And the work is truly bittersweet because it’s all _her_ , and it’s so hard to stop imagining the feeling of soft skin under her fingers and stop hearing the moans that now seem to be forever etched into her memory.

And Regina hates this. Because she _doesn’t care._ All she’s ever cared about was her work. Maybe her friends, sometimes. And her sister, when she’s been nice. Even her mother doesn’t cut the list.

And Daniel and daddy. But they’re both dead now.

And what good _caring_ has ever done to her anyway? Nothing but a heartache and anger and nothingness.

So she grits her teeth and pushes through.

And she tries to stop thinking.

-

If it just was so easy with her heart.

If she could just convince it somehow that she doesn’t need this. That she doesn’t _want_ this. That this girl means nothing and never will. That what she has now, here, in Robin’s arms is nice. That it’s enough. That it’s all that she needs.

But it’s not easy.

Laying in her bed with eyes wide open, clock striking four, she seems to be able to admit this.

Finally. For a time.

That the weight behind her is not right, that the arms are too big, the smell too heavy. That there’s a beard where there shouldn’t be, that the hair aren’t soft nor long. That she doesn’t want to move closer into the warmth, because the warmth doesn’t feel good. It doesn’t feel right.

It feels like a lie.

Yet another lie in her life. Another half measure. Another _almost._

And Regina is not sure why she does this. And she is not sure if she can stop.

She moves further away and slips out of bed, walks to the kitchen and pours herself a drink. She breathes in.

In the darkness there can still be the truth.

For a time.

Until the sun comes up.

-

Archie told her to breathe deeply when she feels trapped, but those exercises are as helpful as the ones Marian taught her.

Which means they’re pretty fucking useless.

-

She sends the invitation to the agency - as she always does - and addresses one to the model personally – as she always does as well. There’s nothing weird or suspicious about it.

And if her heart flutters only at the thought of seeing the girl again, then well, that’s just how it is.

It’s not that Regina can actually control this, right?

-

She changes the name of her part in the exhibition at the very last minute and she adds another photo at the very end.

And it is not because she’s send the invitation to the girl. No.

She doesn’t want to see her.

She doesn’t _expect_ her to show up.

It’s just that, she felt like she had to.

And well, there’s that.

And the pen might have shaken a little when she wrote the title by hand.

-

She’s been all made up and she wears a long, black dress and she knows she looks good. Robin confirmed and by the looks she receives from the other guests, they approve too.

She can’t help herself from fidgeting.

Robin clasps her hands and squeezes and offers a warm smile and he is oh, _so nice_.

And she sometimes feels bad that she’s doing this to him.

-

She – her exhibition – is the star of the evening. Critics have only good words for her – well, she’ll wait for their actual reviews with sending any _thank you_ notes – and her colleagues are mesmerised.

Everyone seems to want to talk to her or talk about her. And she’s always been a busy artist at those exhibitions, but this completely exceeded her expectations – well, it would have exceeded her expectations if she had any.

Robin is beaming next to her and even her mother walks around with a small smile on her face.

Finally she’s done something right. There is a suitable partner next to her and her fame spreads through the circles. And that is all her mother ever really wanted from her. To enforce the family name.

She should be happy.

She should.

And she is.

Really.

She just wishes she could see this one pair of green eyes around. Just for a little while at least. And then she would surely feel better.

She sighs, and turns her head around sweeping the crowd.

-

And it’s all _her_ fucking fault.

If she didn’t start with the smiles and the talks and her insufferable, charming way of existing Regina wouldn’t have to wonder and she wouldn’t have to face herself and ask herself all those stupid fucking questions. She wouldn’t be forced to admit anything.

Because, it seems, _enough_ is not good enough anymore.

And Regina knows that it never really was.

-

“You’ll drive yourself crazy.” Marian says sitting next to her on the bench near the entrance to the gallery. It’s the second week that the exhibition has been opened and it’s doing really good. It does. Everyone is happy.

Marian puts her hand over Regina’s own – that are folded on her lap – and she sighs deeply.

“You’ve been here every day for the past week. Give it a rest.”

And Regina looks at her, eyebrows scrunched because _how dare she_. She can do whatever she wishes with her free time.

“She’s not coming.” Marian says weakly, and Regina shakes her hand off of hers.

“I’m not waiting for anyone.” She says straightening her spine.

And Marian sights again.

“I got you coffee.” She says, stands up and puts the cup in the place she’s been sitting at. She looks at Regina for a second and then she walks away.

-

“You’ve never photographed faces, why the sudden change to eyes?” One of the critics asks her. She laughs lowly and falsely.

“There’s no sudden change,” she answers, “there is only one picture with one eye in all of my works presented here, why the _sudden_ interest in this one?”

“It’s different.” He says.

And of course it’s different. Because this is not a photo from her meticulously planned photo shoot. It’s a picture taken on the rooftop of her studio, when the sun was setting and the rain was pouring down heavily. With a girl she cannot – for the love of everything that is holy – stop thinking about.

But she doesn’t tell anyone that, she just nods and lets them believe she likes to be mysterious.

-

She stops visiting the gallery and she takes the last photo she put there ( _girl with one eye,_ critics called it) off. She takes it home and turns it around so it faces the wall in her living room.

And _Wild Eyes_ are still as popular as they’ve been when she’s been coming there every day.

-

Her heart physically _hurts._

And it’s preposterous and ludicrous. And Regina groans loudly when she rips off the sheets away from her body and throws them on the floor.

She’s annoyed with this. She’s annoyed with herself.

She won’t get any sleep tonight.

-

“You should find her.” Archie tells her one day. And she doesn’t pretend anymore that she doesn’t know who is he talking about.

They’ve been pass that five sessions ago.

“You need closure. Talking to her, explaining, saying sorry. It would help.”

He’s always so sure of himself, Regina hates that.

She moves on the sofa a bit, uncrosses and crosses her legs again. She doesn’t look at him when she says:

“I’m not very good at apologising to people.”

And Archie smiles this patronising smile that she feels is only reserved for his kids patients and her _specifically._

“You don’t have to be good at it, you just have to do it.”

And well, easier said than done.

-

“I thought we could have the wedding reception at the mansion.” Her mother says.

Regina stops short at sorting of the documents she’s been at for past two hours now. She’s suddenly frozen, papers in her hands, phone clutched between her ear and shoulder.

“Whose wedding reception?”

Because she would _still_ give her mother the benefit of the doubt.

Her mother huffs. “Well yours and Robin’s of course!”

And the papers fall from Regina’s hands.

“What.” Regina barks now grasping the phone in her hand. Her mother sighs loudly, annoyance clear in her voice.

“Your wedding Regina,” she says, “it’s about time, don’t you think?”

And Regina growls because that’s just _too fucking much_.

Because she can pretend she’s happy, can pretend that everything is great, can pretend she’s fine with her mother constantly manipulating her life.

But this is one step too many.

“I am not getting married mother.”

She tries to calm down, she tries to take deep breaths because she really doesn’t want to snap at her mother and she knows she’s at the verge of doing just that. But,

“Don’t be ridiculous Regina, I’ve already-“

“Mother.” Regina interrupts her harshly. “Fuck. Off.”

She can still hear her mother ranting angrily when she pulls the phone away from her ear and disconnects.

She doesn’t even have a chance to put the phone down on the table when it rings anew and when she answers it this time it’s to her sister’s loud laugh.

“Regina,” Zelena manages between her cackles, “what the hell have you done?!”

-

Before anything else happens Regina meets with Robin in the park, and she takes a walk with him and she tries to explain and she tries to be the nice one in this relationship for a change.

And that’s how she breaks up with him. All nice, and no real feelings.

She knows her mother would be furious. But, quite frankly, her mother can _go fuck herself_.

Regina smirks when she walks back home.

And after that the search begins.

It takes all her contacts and resources – and she does have many of those – but apparently it’s hard to find someone when you don’t have a name, or an address.

Or a face.

Because Regina has thousands pictures of this girl, the only problem is, there are none with her face on them. The only exception that damn one eye piece laying face down in her living room. (And that one didn’t help either – she checked).

The agency is of no help whatsoever, with all their ridiculous clauses about protecting their employees and whatnot.

“The word is around, if someone hears about her they’ll let you know.” Kathryn says while rubbing her stiff shoulders.

“I never thought finding someone would be so damn difficult.”

-

The days drag on and turn into nights that turn into days again.

And Regina is tired, she’s restless, drained.

It is still better than how it was.

Now the truth is in the sunrises too.

And she is free.

-

It’s been seven months and Regina has nothing. Completely nothing.

It’s like the girl vanished from the face of the Earth.

Sometimes late at night, Regina wonders if she was real at all.

-

Regina moves to New York.

It’s a sad thing closing the doors to her studio for the very last time but she knows it will be good for her. The change. She’ll have her own gallery down in NY and she’d be further away from her mother.

And small blessings – or rather big ones – Kathryn moves on with her, so she gets to keep her assistant and her friend (Marian cannot go because she won’t abandon her plant farm. And she’s pregnant.).

She’s also gaining a roommate. Which may turn either good or horribly bad but Regina’s determined to stay optimistic.

 _Girl With One Eye_ stays in Boston, in the basement of her sister’s mansion.

And without that photo, and in another town, it’s easier to think that she dreamed all of this.

-

Mr. Gold invites her over to Paris to talk about a project from one of the major fashion companies, and Regina is somewhat surprised, because she is a fairly known name in the country but she didn’t think that anyone would have noticed her overseas (she never really did anything to promote herself there).

Kathryn is so excited to go that she doesn’t question anything and she almost packs their whole flat in a day. Which,  _of course,_ ends up being a disaster.

The flight to Paris is rather uneventful, and when they land they’re received by the chauffeur and a limousine and Kathryn _sequels._

The hotel is cosy, and rooms are unbelievably big but Regina doesn’t question anything much because she is too busy being nervous about her meeting with Mr. Gold.

Kathryn is, of course, of no help whatsoever.

And Regina, well, Regina cannot sleep.

-

She meets with Mr. Gold in a charming little café which the name of she cannot pronounce. She’s met with Mr. Gold once before in her life, and he’s always been incredibly polite and incredibly straightforward.

Not much changed in that regard.

And so when they’re seated and their orders are placed Mr. Gold cuts right to the chase.

“Miss Mills, I’m not going to lie to you. The only reason my client is interested in you is because of the _Wild Eyes.”_

Well, Regina isn’t really surprised. Because that, that is her – to date – most well-known exhibition. But Mr. Gold continues in direction Regina rather doesn’t expect.

“My employer knows the model and-“

And Regina’s heart actually stops at that. And when it resumes its beating it’s twice as fast as before. Because this, this is something she’s been waiting to hear for over a year now. _They know the model._ So Regina, with a shaky voice and as politely as she can, interrupts.

“They know the model?” Her voice is rather breathy and she’s not sure she’s hearing herself right.

Mr. Gold looks at her, eyebrows raised high in clear confusion.

“Of course,” he says, annoyed, “we worked with Emma a few times before.”

And Regina can’t really process anything else right now because all she can think of is _Emma. Her name is Emma._

Regina is sure she must have made some kind of spectacle of herself because Mr. Gold is in a hurry to explain: “She goes by E.M. White, so that might have been confusing.

And he’d have guessed wrong, but Regina really doesn’t care.

Because she has a name now, and with that name she has hope.

-

And it seems like Emma – and how Regina loves that she can finally say the name, even if just in her head – cut herself from all her contacts in the industry, the new ones as well as the old ones. Because Mr. Gold is looking for her as well. “But we don’t want one without the other.” He says, clearly stating that shall he find Emma first she’d be – almost – the first to know.

And Regina is flattered.

They set up a date for video conference before she leaves and Regina is sure she just gained a new contact overseas.

And she wonders, not for the first time, how intricately life spins its web, that she had to cross the Atlantic to learn one woman’s name.

-

And Regina sleeps better. Even if she still clutches the sheets too hard sometimes.

-

It turns out that having a name is not that much of a help. At least for now, but Regina haven’t used her contacts yet, and it’s been only a few days.

And Marian is here. _Very pregnant_ Marian.

“There’s this gallery I’ve heard of,” it’s the first thing she says when they see each other, “local artists! It just opened, we have to go!”

Kathryn rolls her eyes and groans.

“Well, nice to see you too.” Regina says and tries to _somehow_ embrace her (Regina was never very big on the hugs, but those two might be an exception). “How are you feeling? Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Marian says hugging her back and then moving away and straight to Kathryn with open arms, “this baby is so heavy! It will be fucking huge, I’m telling you.”

And so they laugh and dress and go to the gallery to ease Marian’s curiosity.

Other things can wait for now.

-

The gallery is rather small but it’s packed with pictures and it feels nice and Regina didn’t really expect anything bigger – her own gallery is barely this size.

And when she walks slowly in between the paintings and sculptures she is calm and relaxed and it’s good. Life is good. Both of her friends are here, her mother hasn’t called in two weeks and her sister might be having an affair.

And then something catches her eyes.

And so Regina stops, and looks.

And looks and looks and looks.

And she walks closer, slowly, as if the painting could run away at any time.

It’s dark. The background is almost black and it looks like a smoke that enfolds the two figures on it. Two women, one with blonde hair and one with brown.

And Regina can’t help but gasp, and her heart is beating loudly in her ears.

It’s an act. From hips up. The blonde woman’s standing behind the brunette, their bodies touching. Her hands are covering the other woman’s breasts. And they’re in shackles.

The woman on the foreground holds a key, right in front of her chest, where the heart is.

And tears well up in Regina’s eyes for the first time in months.

Because you can’t see the faces apart from one set of lips.

And she _knows_ those lips because she sees them every day in a mirror.

And when she walks closer still the title says _Queen._

And the name underneath it is E.M. White.

-

Regina holds herself together, with grace, as she always – usually – does.

When she speaks to the curator about the gallery and artists one wouldn’t believe that there’s a war of emotions raging through her.

And when she asks about Emma. _Emma._ She gets more that she thought she would.

“She lectures at the institute of fine arts.” The man says.

And well, here it is.

-

“You found out what?!” Marian almost falls from the chair.

They’re sitting on the balcony of their apartment: herself, Kathryn and Marian. They are drinking tea. Correction, Kathryn and Marian are drinking tea. She’s drinking coffee.

“Her name is Emma White, she lectures at the university here.”

And Marian’s eyes were open wide but now Kathryn’s are too.

“What the hell Regina?!” Kathryn screams, tea slashing on the table when she puts her mug down.

Marian nods.

“The curator in the gallery was very helpful.” Regina says and sips.

“Then, pray tell me, what the fuck are we still doing here?!” Marian’s tea meets similar fate to Kathryn’s.

Regina sighs.

Because she _wants to_ and she also _doesn’t want to_ and she is _not sure_ , again. And she doesn’t like it one bit.

“Move your ass dammit!” Marian stands up and walks back inside. “I’ll give birth before she decides.” Regina can hear her mutter.

Kathryn looks at her and puts her hand over hers on the armchair.

“Do you want to go?”

“Yes.”

Because there’s no other way she could possibly answer.

-

She’s not sure how they found the right building. She is still not entirely sure _it is_ the right building.

But she’s spend over half a year looking for this _girl, -_ woman, Emma, - and so a few hours wandering around would not make any difference.

Marian has to sit though, so Kathryn stays with her on the cushioned bench in the hall.

And Regina walks and looks through the rooms and floors and names and she cannot find anyone named White at all. But she continues, because, well. She’s Regina Mills.

And then at the top floor there’s a name. Not White but Emma. _Emma Swan_.

“Hey lady, are you going in?” Some _boy_ asks her. “Cause if not then can you move, cause we gonna be late.” He looks at his friends and they nod.

And she moves aside without a word.

When the doors are closing behind them she stops them. And she really can’t explain why she decides to walk in. She takes her seat at the back of the lecture room.

And she waits.

Perfect posture. Hands shaking under the table.

And then there she is.

Tall, slim, young, golden hair.

 _Professor_ Emma Swan _._

Apparently.

“Okay kids, let’s get on with it.” She says, and the lecture begins.

-

Regina doesn’t know what to expect but she’s been getting gradually nervous through the whole lecture. And she waits, when some students go out and others talk with the idiot.

And then she stands up and she walks.

Emma is packing her bag, which seems a hard task to achieve because she has a lot of things.

And then Regina whispers the name, and their eyes meet for the first time in a very, very long.

“Emma.”

And the woman freezes.

And they’re standing there, unmoving for a while. And Regina doesn’t know what to do with herself because she’s been looking for this girl, _woman_ , for such a long time but she never really thought what she would do if she actually met her.

She has no plan. And this was such a stupid idea.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asks instead. And well, they’re both here now so they might as well talk.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Regina answers.

“Why?”

And Emma’s eyes are _so green_ and they’re so sad and Regina wonders if it’s her fault.

“I wanted to see you.” She says, and before Emma can interrupt she adds: “I wanted to apologise.”

Emma closes her eyes and sighs, she puts both of her hands on her hips. She’s wearing those tight jeans and nicely pressed black shirt with a vest. Her hair are falling down loose. She looks really good, and Regina hasn’t seen her in so long and so she lets her eyes feast.

“I was in love with you.” Emma says finally and she opens her eyes.

And Regina’s chest heaves and she halts at the word because that word, that word is what she’s been missing all this time. And it rings so true and it _fits_. And she can’t understand how could this be, when she knows this woman so little but she still _feels._

And so Regina moves closer, eyes still locked with the green ones and she wants to say so many different things to her. How she’s sorry, and that she didn’t mean anything she said that morning, and that she was terrible, and that everything just went so very wrong and _I’m sorry,_

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

But the only thing she manages is: “Pose for me.” In a voice barely above whisper.

“No.”

“Ma?” And Regina turns her head to the right and she sees a boy with brown hair and green eyes, maybe around eight? Or ten? And the boy looks at them both as if he’s expecting something. Regina scrunches her eyebrows.

“Henry, could you wait outside?”

And _Henry._ And Regina remembers that Emma said this name once but she thought that the girl had a dog with a weirdly human name – her father’s, fate’s be damned. But no.

Emma has a son.

And she guesses that this should scare her or put her off or make her stop but it doesn’t. And it doesn’t matter that she never knew because he’s Emma’s. And the eyes are almost the same shade of green. And she somehow loves him already.

_This could end so badly._

But the boy shrugs and smiles at her and says: “Or we could all go to Granny’s?”

-

So they’re sitting in a small diner. Henry _inhales_ the pancakes from his plate. Regina is not surprised, because Emma always ate this way as well.

She drinks coffee.

Emma just sits there.

Kathryn and Marian looked pretty shocked when she walked down the stairs with a boy and Emma and she told them that she will _see them later._

“So, how do you know my mom?” The boy asks and Regina realises that she’s been looking into her mug for probably a few minutes now. Now she looks at him.

“I photographed her once.” She answers with a smile.

“Really?! Can I see?”

And the syrup from the pancakes is sliding down his chin and he looks so earnest that Regina would really like to say yes.

“I don’t think that’s wise.” She says instead.

“Ah, so it’s one of those.” He says and nods and goes back to his food. But he looks up at Regina when she doesn’t say anything and says. “Ones mom said I’d never see.” His mouth is full of pancakes.

“Henry, please don’t talk with your mouth full.” Emma says with a sigh and she wipes his chin with a napkin.

He swallows and says: “Sorry Ma.” Then he drinks his cocoa and it stains his lips and he needs a napkin again and Emma just rolls her eyes clearly giving up.

And Regina is delighted.

“So, what’s your name? I’m Henry.”

And Regina chuckles.

“I know.” She answers and she looks at Emma, “My name’s Regina.”

And Henry freezes with a mug halfway to his mouth.

“Regina?” He says, then turns to face his mother and Emma suddenly looks like she’s been cornered by the pack of wolves. And  Henry turns to her again. “Mom’s Regina?”

And Regina’s heart melts.

And she thinks that Emma’s blushing.

-

They’re standing in the park – because Henry insisted that they _must_ go – and they haven’t talked much since he left them to play on the slides.

And Regina really needs to talk.

“I’m sorry.”

She finally says, and she hoped that maybe some weight will lift off of her shoulders but nothing like that happens (she’d have to call Archie and tell him that, finally prove him wrong). Emma sighs and looks down at her feet.

“What happened?” She asks quietly, almost as if she doesn’t really want to know the answer.

“It terrified me.” Regina says and looks at Emma watching her son play on the slide. “You terrified me.” And then Emma looks at her.

“I’m sorry.” Emma whispers and it sounds so wrong coming from her now that Regina is annoyed.

“Don’t apologize to me.” She says.

“Okay.”

And they continue looking at the children on the playground.

Regina clenches her hands into fists. She clears her throat.

“It was a bad time, I didn’t know what I felt, I was pressured from all the sides and I guess I just lost it and I went back to what was the most familiar state for me.” She sighs, because this is really hard. She turns her head to look at Emma again. “It still doesn’t justify how I treated you and I’m sorry. That is the only thing that I regret.” And she hopes that the message is clear.

Emma stares into her eyes as if she’s looking for something and then she nods.

“I should have pushed you to talk.”

And Regina chuckles because, “I don’t think that would have gone well at the time.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

And Emma smirks for the very first time since Regina found her and it warms her all over.

-

When she walks into the apartment Kathryn and Marian are waiting for her behind the doors. They’re looking at her expectantly when she takes her coat off. Kathryn is almost bouncing on her feet.

“And?” Marian enquires.

And Regina can’t stop the smile from coming onto her face.

“I think I have a date.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.  
> Ready for your opinions.


End file.
